


náttmál

by aquarium_seeds



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Awesome Jane Foster, Cooking, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Jane Foster Loves Science, Slice of Life, Thor (Marvel) is Not Stupid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-02-22 21:35:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23467420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aquarium_seeds/pseuds/aquarium_seeds
Summary: Sustenance must be had. But what to prepare?
Relationships: Jane Foster/Thor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	náttmál

“What would you like for dinner?” Thor stood in the large arched doorway between the kitchen and living room, drying his hands on a white hand towel.

  
Jane, reclining on the sofa clicking away at her laptop, paused to look over at Thor.  
“Hmm,” she said. “What about that lovely… Asgardian grilled vegetable thing you made last week? That was so good.”

  
“I regret, I am out of ‘that vegetable thing,’” said Thor, amused. “Midgardian ingredients will have to suffice.”

  
“Oh, no,” groused Jane. “Don’t substitute your Asgardian veggies for… like, turnips or something.” She made a face. “Asgardian vegetables are better.”

  
Thor laughed. “I am glad you think so! When my attendant next arrives from Asgard, I will task him to bring more. However. For tonight, what shall we eat?”

  
Jane, who’s attention had slid back to her work, turned her face to him while keeping her eyes on her screen. It was an endearing quirk Thor loved, not least because he enjoyed turning her attention from her science back to himself. “Oh, I don’t know,” she said, distractedly. “Whatever you want. You’re the cook, after all--WOAH!” Thor, in a surprising display of stealth, had crept forward and scooped her up, laptop and all, to settle her on his lap. She huffed, smiling, and turned to bump noses with him. “You’re sneaky, when you want to be,” she accused.

  
“My warrior training was diverse and thorough,” he said.

  
“Your warrior training,” disagreed Jane, “is a menace. I will never gain back the years you scared off my life by ambushing me at work that one time.”

  
“It was not an ambush,” he protested. “It is not my fault you did not respond to your name the eight times I called to you.”

  
“I was deep in particle physics,” she defended. “It could happen to anyone.”

  
“Anyone,” agreed Thor, “with three Nobels in Physics. So that’s… only you, my love.”

  
Jane preened, squirming with joy. Thor plucked the laptop from her and set it aside to kiss her thoroughly. It was some time later before they separated, both out of breath and considerably more flushed.

  
“What,” asked Thor quietly, “would you like for dinner.”

  
“Dinner?” whispered Jane. “What’s that?” she leaned in to kiss him again. Thor obliged. “Actually though,” she said in between kisses, “I could really go for some Cafe Rio.”

  
“You could always go for Cafe Rio,” complained Thor. “We have eaten there a dozen times this month. Pick somewhere else.”

  
“Costa Vida.”

  
“That is practically identical to Cafe Rio.”

  
“No, Cafe Rio is better.”

  
Thor snorted, withdrawing and tucking her hair behind her ear and smoothing a hand down her cheek. “I shall not eat anywhere that is inferior to another. Pick something else.”

  
“Were you still planning on cooking something, or should I choose a restaurant?”

  
Thor required a truly incredible amount of calories to thrive. Earth-sized portions were hardly a snack to him, and not satisfying as a meal. His hardy Asgardian biology allowed him to go quite a long time without sufficient food, and so he took to eating human-sized meals when out in company, and eating his fill while at home. It made eating out a negotiation between Thor’s stomach and tongue.

  
“Mmm,” thought Thor. “I suppose I am hungry enough we ought to eat food of our own making tonight.”

  
“How kind of you to include me,” said Jane sarcastically. It was a running joke that Jane couldn’t cook her way out of a cereal box.

  
“Certainly,” said Thor. “Who else shall measure out the ingredients and preheat the oven for me?”

  
“Measuring and button-pressing, that’s me,” laughed Jane. “Want to just do pasta?” Pasta was a common meal in their household, as it was easy to make a lot of, and very filling.

  
“Yes!” enthused Thor, “We must have pasta!”

  
They ended up having much more than just pasta. In true Thor fashion, he had gone above and beyond, also making garlic bread, a salad, a sort of roasted beast from Asgard, and several other small delicacies.

  
“A truly excellent feast,” said Thor, his hands on his hips, surveying the table. “I shall post a picture to my Twitter, so that all the world may see.”

  
“Hashtag thriving,” sang Jane in a nasal soprano. “Hashtag goals. Hashtag kiss the cook. Hashtag…” she paused, thinking. “Hashtag just princely things.” Thor laughed and grabbed her round the middle to tickle her. Shrieking with laughter, she elbowed him in the ribs until he relinquished and set her in her seat at the table.

  
After Thor demolished all the food in sight, and Jane had had one portion too many for her tiny frame, they both sat back, satisfied. Thor pulled out his phone.

  
“Twitter is quite impressed with our feast,” he said. “4 million likes so far.”

  
“Oh, is that all?” mused Jane. “I suppose it’s because you don’t have your naked chest in the picture. For once,” she teased.

  
Thor swelled with pride, smirking. “I must admit, Midgardians are most appreciative of my form.”

  
“Not as appreciative as me,” said Jane, her eyes hot and playful.

  
“Indeed,” said Thor, his eyes darkening, lips curling into a more predatory smirk. They retired to their bedroom.

  
There was no more talk of cooking that night.


End file.
